


have a little faith.

by littlestormwitch



Category: Nikolai Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 03:16:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20324188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlestormwitch/pseuds/littlestormwitch
Summary: “What good can an unhappy king do to his kingdom?”





	have a little faith.

A long series of looks passed between the king and his general on the opposite side of the table.  
The Shu princess didn’t know what was worst: the cutting, mutual, attraction the two shared but kept a secret – for each other, not for anyone else with a good pair of eyes, or even one eye, since the redhead woman, Genya, couldn’t stop huffing at their silence – or the long list of dinners to enforce the idea her marriage with the king was going to be a happy, lovely event. It could’ve: king Nikolai was polite, gentle, smart and even good-looking. And terribly in love with Zoya Nazyalensky, the woman with lightning in her eyes. Could the princess blame him? She would’ve loved Zoya too.  
“Your Highness,” Ehri cleared her throat, and the series of glancing stopped abruptly. Zoya looked down at her plate, while Nikolai moved his attention in the other woman’s direction reluctantly. _It was your idea to get married_, she wanted to tell him, _at least you could try and pretend you’re pleased about it._ But of course, he couldn’t. Not with the object of his true desires so close. “May we have a word – privately?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. Nikolai frowned: she’d never wanted to be alone with him. In fact, she had _demanded_ to never be alone with him until the wedding.  
“What’s all the secrecy about?” Tamar asked. The princess was slightly intimidated by the female guard – more than she was by her gigantic brother.  
“None of your business,” she snapped, holding her chin up and trying not to tremble at the hardness of the guard’s look. A small chuckle left Zoya’s lips as she took her chalice to it, swinging down the wine in a single gulp. Nikolai’s eyes moved on her once more and the princess suppressed a loud sigh. “Please, Nikolai,” she mumbled gently then, and the king appeared startled for a few seconds by the kindness in her voice.  
“Alright,” he said, waving his hand in dismissal towards the others. “You can go, I’m sure she won’t attempt to murder me,” he added, shooting a grin in her direction. There was some noise as everyone got up – Genya’s arm locked with Zoya’s after a few steps, and she whispered something only they could hear in a reassuring voice.  
Zoya didn’t look happy. The princess looked at the woman, _really_ looked at her, and bit her bottom lip almost nervously at her graceful movements. _She looked like a queen already._ “What is it, Ehri?” the king demanded when the door shut behind then, dragging her back to reality.  
“You don’t want to marry me,” she replied, not keen on dancing around the subject. It wasn’t a question, and Nikolai’s eyes widened for a moment before he sighed and leaned back in his chair.  
“I thought I mentioned already that it’s the easiest way for both of us,” he looked suddenly tired as he always did when the topic emerged, and for a moment the girl pitied him. She took a deep breath in.  
“But a Grisha queen would be just as clever as a Shu one,” she murmured, tilting her head to the side. Nikolai’s eyes, half closed a moment before, widened in her direction. A series of emotions she couldn’t quite place crossed his featured, but he remained almost petrified on the spot.  
“What?” he managed to ask in a whisper. Ehri sighed and got up, crossing the small space between her seat and the king’s, stopping just in front of him.  
“You already know I don’t want this, and you’re being more patient and understanding than any other men – any other _king_ – would’ve but,” she stopped, shoot a look behind her and then leaned on the table, crossing her harms, “you don’t want it either, and not because it’s not what you expected your life to be, I’m pretty much sure no royal would expect to marry out of love, and you know that – but you do love someone, a very, _very_ powerful Grisha, and it pains you to be away from her,” the princess met his gaze as she spoke, and observed as confusion mixed with terror and indecision across his face.  
“You’re smarter than you want to appear,” he chuckled, sinking a bit in the chair and shaking his head. “As you said, no royal thinks of marrying for love,” his brows shot up, but Ehri could almost see the thoughts running in his head over and over again, and smiled. That confused Nikolai even more.  
“What good can an unhappy king do to his kingdom?” she wondered, and Nikolai tensed. _He really cared about it, he was willing to give up everything for it._ She wished him to be selfish.  
“An alliance with your people –” he started, but she waved her hand quickly, clicking her tongue.  
“You can still have your alliance, my family won’t be pleased but they’re not stupid and they’ll blame it on me anyway,” she stretched her legs slightly, as if she was preparing for the perspective of running away, of freedom. “On the other hand, with a Grisha queen – _with Zoya_,” she said her name and everything in Nikolai became brighter, “that’s another story. That’s a clever choice: there are Grisha everywhere, and they’ll know Ravka is ready to help them, no matter if they’re Shu or Fjerdan or –” she wrinkled her nose and the shrugged.  
“Ehri,” he murmured tentatively, frowning, and the princess smiled with satisfaction at a wordless Nikolai Lantsov. She leaned forward, placing her fingers on his cheek gently and making him look up at him.  
“Don’t think I’m doing this just for the goodness of my heart, king boy, I’ll be gaining my freedom back,” she cooed, shooting him a smile. “Now you better go, your general wasn’t very pleased of us being alone.”

Zoya paced the room with big steps, her hands tugging at the sleeves of her kefta under the careful eye of Genya sitting on the edge of the other woman’s bed.  
“Are you sure you’re fine, Zoya?” the redhead questioned her gently, cocking her head to the side. Zoya’d been walking up and down the room for over twenty minutes, thunders rumbling in the distance and a storm nestling behind her eyes.  
“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” the general snapped, and Genya closed her eye with a deep breath in. She often wondered if her friend knew of the obviousness of her feelings for the king – and his feelings for her, and if not how could they both be so blind? And now it was late, because off to marry the Shu princess, though something about her told Genya it wouldn’t be that easy.  
“Zoya,” she gently called again, but the general seemed not to hear her and continued her marathon around the room.  
“Someone should’ve stayed – Tamar or Tolya or another, _any_ other guard,” she muttered to herself, but Genya could hear her just fine and rubbed her temples before letting her hands fall on her lap.  
“Nikolai knows how to defend himself against a little princess, he’s in no danger of sort and I’m sure he’ll be just –” her voice was cut off by the door bursting open. Zoya lifted her hands, the wind immediately responding to her command, but it died quickly as the two girls noticed the king standing in the doorway. “– fine. See?” Genya said, looking between them.  
Zoya couldn’t move her eyes from his figure: he was flustered, his face red and glowing, his lips slightly parted and his breath short, as if he’d ran or – Zoya shook her head to push away the thought. Nikolai took a step forward, entering the room and, without removing is gaze from the general, spoke.  
“Genya, could you leave us?” he demanded, and the redhead cocked her head with a frown before getting up. She said nothing, but before closing the door noticed something capturing the candle light in the king’s hand and smiled to herself.

“Is everything –” Zoya started asking as soon as she heard the click of her door. _What was that Genya couldn’t remain? _  
“Marry me,” Nikolai interrupted her, his voice almost trembling and his eyes wide with euphoria. Zoya froze, her breath catching in her throat, and everything went suddenly still. A long, very, very long moment of silence passed – Nikolai’s expectation electrifying the air, Zoya’s thundering heart the only sound in her ears.  
“Are you out of your mind?” she asked then, her voice sore and low like a whisper. He took a step in her direction, she took a step back. “This is not the time for your jokes,” she added, hard, her fingers twitching as the air curled around it, a clear sign of her nervousness.  
“I’m not joking,” he frowned, then took another step forward. This time she didn’t move, but the air got colder and he opened his hand, palm up, a ring shining on it. It wasn’t the emerald Zoya had seen on Alina, nor the pretty little thing he’d gave to the Shu princess to keep up the appearance of an engagement, and she looked between it and his eyes several times before he spoke again. “I mean it, Zoya, I want to marry you, wanted it for a long time, every single night you brought me back to my room, to my _skin_, and even the monster felt it, and Lizabeta knew it, and Ehri knows it – she made a very good point, too,” he took another step forward her and took the ring with two fingers, lifting it slightly. Zoya frowned.  
“Of course she did, because she’s doing everything she can to blow off this alliance: you need the marriage, Nikolai,” her voice was harsh, but her eyes looked at everything except him and the ring, too scared she might lost her good sense, because the first answer that came to her mind at his question was _yes_. She couldn’t allow it.  
“I won’t blow off the alliance, and this – _us_, it’s clever, it’s right,” he wanted to move, she knew, but restrained himself for her sake, almost as if he knew that a single movement could’ve scared her away.  
“This is madness,” she whispered, shaking her head and looking at the floor. “I’m your general, far from being royal, and –” the words choked her and she had to stop for a moment, taking a deep breath in. “I’m Grisha, Nikolai,” she whispered at last, as if it pained her. Fierce Zoya had never been ashamed of her nature, but it that moment it seemed like she wanted to rip it off her chest barehanded.  
“Exactly,” he murmured, and she shot him a bewildered look before he continued. “Grisha are everywhere, always threatened, but with you by my side – they’ll know here it’s safe. They’ll know Ravka cares. Alina would’ve been a love queen because she was Grisha: you are so much more, you have the power of a _Saint_, and they’ll accept you,” he spoke with confidence, but didn’t miss the look on Zoya’s face at the words _queen _and _saint_. He took a breath in, lowered one of his hand and after taking a tentative step in her direction, cupped her cheek with the other. She tensed at first, but when their gazes met Nikolai saw the jewels in her eyes shine brighter than ever. “They’ll accept you and they’ll love you, because _I _love you,” he whispered, and felt her tense again as she flinched. He was surely doing a good job in scaring her away.  
“No, they won’t,” she murmured, tilting her head to rest it on his hand. _Just a moment_, she said to herself,_ just a moment here before everything crumbles down and I lose him._ She didn’t want to lose him, but knew she had to. “They would never give up their precious golden son to a girl born of lightning and thunder and common blood,” she voiced the thoughts that had haunted her for the months before his engagement and took a step back, her face suddenly cold without his hand on it. “Alina was the Sun Summoner, she _was_ a Saint, she was _hope_. I’m just a common witch,” she clicked her tongue, the word bitter on her lips as she fixed her gaze in his. “There’s a reason if no Grisha ever became king nor queen.”  
“Have a little faith,” he murmured, his face showing all his vulnerability at once. _Sobachka_, she thought, and taking a deep breath in she moved towards him again. Everything in her body ached as she lifter her hands to his face, gently stroking the hair away from his forehead, caressing his cheeks, trying to memorize his face as if she didn’t know it by heart already.  
“I have faith in you, because you’re the right king they’ll been waiting for, and you can’t blow it off because a smart princess told you it would’ve been alright – it won’t,” she took a shaking breath in, brushing her thumb across his lips, and his eyes flashed to her. “They love you, but they won’t understand,” she repeated in a whisper, moving her thumb slightly down, pinching his chin.  
“They will,” he insisted, and when she shook her head he wrapped both his arms around her – she was so close he didn’t have to move. “Marry me,” he murmured again, shortening the distance between their faces and cocking his head to the side so he could softly brush his lips against her skin, kissing softly her jaw.  
“Nikolai,” she warned, but closed her eyes. _Wrong,_ her head shouted.  
“Marry me,” he said, the tip of his nose touching her cheek, his lips at the corner of her mouth. _Right_, her body shivered slightly against his. “Marry me,” he repeated, kissing the tip of her nose. _No_, she wanted to move away but couldn’t, and forced herself to open her eyes – his features at first a blur. “Marry me,” their lips were close, _so _close. _I can’t_, she wanted to cry out.  
“I love you,” she cooed instead before crashing onto him. Nikolai stayed himself after taking a step back, Zoya’s mouth on his clouding everything else out – he hadn’t expected that, but got drunk on the feeling as one of his hands firmly stayed on her small back, pushing her body on his while the other reached the back of her head, sinking in her silky hair.  
“Zoya,” he called, her name soft on his lips, her kisses hungry and desperate and _sad_. “Tell me you don’t want to,” he growled, tilting her head back and parting their lips. She sighed, looking up. “Tell me you don’t want to marry me, that you don’t care, and I’ll marry Ehri,” he demanded, meeting her gaze. Her eyes widened and her plump, red lips parted slightly as she caught her breath.  
“I can’t,” was all she could manage. Because she did care, she did want to marry him, but she couldn’t, _couldn’t, couldn’t_. And she didn’t want to lie to him – how could she, after telling him how she felt? After telling him she _loved_ him?  
A smile ghosted Nikolai’s lips and gently, slowly, he moved his hand from her hair, still keeping her close with the other, to take the ring again and lift it in front of her eyes. It was a slim silver band, Zoya noticed, with a dark blue stone on it, a colour so close to the one in her eyes she wondered if Nikolai hadn’t actually planned everything a long time ago.  
“I care about my kingdom, and I know that it needs you – and _I_ need you, Zoya, not as my general, not as my friend, but as Ravka’s Queen,” he let go of her waists and took her left hand gently. “We’ve been drunk together enough times to know you’re scared of this, but we’ve been sober together enough times to know you don’t need to be,” how many things unspoken in the look he gave her, how many promises, vows, truths. Her chest ached – _if only Liliyana could see her now_ – and she nodded, unable to say anything, to part her lips without all the pain of her past crushing her to tears. But a nod was all Nikolai needed to slide the little band on her finger, their hearts skipping a beat.  
“Weren’t you supposed to kneel?” she asked after a few moments of silence, and a wild smile appeared on the king’s face. She kissed the smile, kissed the king, again and again until her lips were red and swallowed, and her body ached for more as he lifted her off the ground, her legs immediately wrapping around his hips, her head thrown back by a laugh. Their hands studied their bodies, their lips traced each other skin until they grew tired of it and then a little more.

In the moonlight, with Nikolai’s body peacefully resting at her side, Zoya lifted her ringed hand. The light caught the stone, and she studied it with her tired eyes. _Ravka’s Queen_, she thought before smiling to herself: could her life still surprise her?


End file.
